


Like the Ocean

by traitorsinlove



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Bellarke feels, Braven friendship, F/M, Grief, bellamy blake angst, bellarke angst, braven, brotp braven, grieving bellamy, major angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 13:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13591533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traitorsinlove/pseuds/traitorsinlove
Summary: In the days following Praimfaya, Bellamy and the others acclimate back to living in space. While exploring the Ring, Raven discovers something that she decides Bellamy needs to see.





	Like the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty. So I have returned with another Bellarke one-shot. I will preface this story by saying that I honestly don’t think that this is a reliastic expectation to have in s5, mainly because it was debunked that any of the prison cells were on the Ring. But that’s what fanfiction is for; to literally write what you want and not care what anyone else (or canon) says, for that matter. LOL.  
> Without further ado, enjoy, lovelies.
> 
> Title was inspire by a poem by Vicki Harrison. I own nothing except my ideas.

They had been on the Ring for nearly 7 weeks. Bellamy hadn’t bothered to do much exploring; space held a mix of the best and the worst memories for him. Plus, if you’d seen one part of the Ark, you pretty much saw it all.

But when Raven stopped by his room earlier that morning, leaning her good hip against the doorway, she had gently told him that there was something he needed to see in the Sky Box.

Now, his heavy footfalls slowly echoed off the cylindrical walls surrounding him as he slowly made his way towards the prison section of the Ark.

He hadn’t been paying attention to where Raven’s directions were taking him, he only knew he was supposed to find Cell #2-8 in Cell Block D-9. As the numbers beside the slate doors began to near his destination, Bellamy felt a sense of dread pooling in his stomach. Raven hadn’t given him any specifics, only the fact that there was something he needed to see for himself.

The thought of Octavia slammed into his chest, causing his breath to hitch. What if this was her cell? What if this had been where she had spent so many nights alone, wondering why her big brother couldn’t save her?

Bellamy gulped, attempting to shove the thought as far from himself as possible as he reached for the door handle.

There was no way that Bellamy Blake could have ever been prepared for what lay on the other side of that unfeeling prison cell door. His mouth fell open as his wide, brown eyes surveyed the room before him. The wind rushed from his lungs and indescribable pain coursed through his heart as he clutched the doorway for support. Bellamy felt tears stinging behind his eyes as the charcoal drawings adorning the walls filled his vision.

This was _her_ cell. This was where _she_ had spent over a year alone, completely cut off from everyone she had ever known. And this was how she spent her time—drawing.

Bellamy blinked slowly several times as his brain attempted to process everything—anything—that he was feeling. He shook his head slowly, knowing that Clarke would never want him to feel the emotion that was currently coursing through his veins, but he couldn’t help it.

Guilt ate him alive as Bellamy braced himself in the doorway, not wishing to be strong for _once_ in his young life. To simply mourn, to simply allow himself this moment of weakness, was all he asked of the universe.

 _Just one minute._ He begged of the void of space as he closed his eyes, allowing the tears to run down his face silently.

“I know what you’re thinking,” A soft voice spoke calmly from over his shoulder. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Raven. “And it’s not your _fault_ , Bellamy.”

Bellamy’s eyes remained closed, his head bowed as his jaw clenched. He knew the truth. He knew what Clarke wanted because she had told him herself…

_“You have such a big heart, Bellamy…”_

Clarke’s voice filled his mind, as clear as the day she had spoken those words to him.

_“People follow you. You inspire them because of this…”_

She had placed a hand over his heart, ensuring that he understood just how important that was to not only their people, but to her, too.

_“But the only way to make sure we survive is to use this, too…”_

Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut even more, fighting the sob that threatened to quake through his body… Because…

_“I got you for that.”_

And he had. He had had her then, and he had refused to believe that she could ever be right about her— No. He couldn’t say the word, let alone think it. He knew she was gone, knew he had to accept that, but thinking _that_ word made it only too real.

Bellamy felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he relinquished his hold on the door, turning to his friend for the small semblance of comfort she could give him. Raven’s arms wrapped around him as Bellamy’s head fell against her shoulder, sobs finally rattling his body.

Raven knew that Bellamy would never be this open with anyone else, aside from Clarke. But Clarke wasn’t here, and Bellamy couldn’t be expected to be strong _all_ of the time.

Raven fought back tears as she thought of her best friend, who was now nothing more than a memory. Raven had lost much since going to the ground, they all had.

“It’s okay, Bellamy,” Raven whispered brokenly, tears trailing down her cheeks. “It’s okay to miss her. I miss her, too.”

A heartbreaking sob burst from Bellamy’s lips as hot tears landed on Raven’s shirt, soaking her shoulder.

“You and Clarke bore the weight of the world. Literally,” Raven murmured, pausing to consider her next words. “You’re not alone, Bellamy… Clarke’s gone, yeah. But you still have friends here. It’s okay to not be the strong one all of the time.” Raven’s voice cracked when she said her name, and that did not go unnoticed by Bellamy, whose breath hitched at the sound.

Bellamy felt something within his chest physically loosen at Raven’s words. He knew she spoke the truth, but he felt obligated by Clarke’s memory to be the strong one that their people needed—that she had needed.

“She wouldn’t want you tearing yourself apart, Bellamy.” Raven spoke so quietly that Bellamy just barely heard her.

“I know.” He rasped, his dark eyes wide. His shoulders slumped as he accepted Raven’s words.

It was okay to have moments of respite. It was okay to not always be the strong one. It was okay to be _human_.

“Can I have a minute?” He asked, swallowing slightly as his eyes wandered back to the room behind him.

Raven gave him a small smile. “Take as long as you need.” The dark-haired woman limped back the way she came, hoping that she had made a small breakthrough with the strong-willed man she called her friend.

Bellamy peered around the room, his eyes beginning to focus on each of the drawings littering the dingy, gray walls.

He stopped short when he saw a dark sketch on the floor that looked eerily familiar. He knelt to get a closer look and found himself looking up at the night sky through a grove of tall pine trees, the stars in the distance and the Earth beneath the artist’s feet—as it should be.

Bellamy felt a small smirk tugging at his lips as he realized why the sketch looked so familiar. He and Clarke had seen a similar view the night that Dax had tried to kill him, as they sat against the trunk of a cedar tree, coming to a silent understanding and a promise of partnership from that moment onward.

He sniffed loudly, his mouth twisting as he ran a hand down his face. He released a heavy breath before returning his eyes to the picture on the floor.

“I miss you, Clarke,” Bellamy’s voice cracked. It was the first time he had been ale to say her name since they had left Earth. It was difficult, but it felt right, somehow. As if expelling her name aloud was helping him to expel a small amount of the grief he knew he would feel indefinitely, but it was a step in the right direction. “We all do.”

A final tear fell from Bellamy’s eyes and landed on Clarke’s sketch, blurring the dark shading of a tree. Bellamy stood, feeling a bit more whole than he had when he had entered the room, and walked back the way he had come.

* * *

 

Bellamy would spend time in Clarke’s room at least once a week for the next year and a half. Every day that he went, he would talk to her… About their friends, life on the Ring, and even about their time together on the ground. It helped him heal in a way that talking to Raven or spending time with his friends couldn’t. Eventually, his visits became less frequent as his heart began to heal and accept the fact that Clarke was truly gone. He would still occasionally wake from a nightmare, wishing for a campfire and blonde hair to ease the panic that always rose in his chest following one of the terrors. But eventually, he grew accustomed to handling the nightmares himself and after many years, they faded into small semblances of dreams.

He still missed her terribly, but life was bearable now. He had become the man that Clarke always knew that he was, deep down. It had taken time, hard lessons learned, and loss to mold him, but he was where he needed to be now. And it was all thanks to the unforgettable power that was Clarke Griffin.


End file.
